


Choose

by Robin Hood (kjack89)



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Gun Violence, Hostage Situations, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26105692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/Robin%20Hood
Summary: A hard choice at the scene of an accident leads to terrible consequences for Eddie and the two people he loves most, Christopher and Buck.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 251





	Choose

**Author's Note:**

> Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

“Well?” Bobby said, looking expectantly at Eddie. “What do you think?”

The scene was complete chaos - a multi-vehicle accident on the 101 that had snarled traffic for miles and left multiple injured trapped in their vehicles, including the two Bobby, Eddie and Buck were looking at now, their cars practically molded together from the force of the impact. One, a young blonde woman, was slumped over her steering wheel, unresponsive, a huge piece of metal from the second vehicle piercing through the back of her seat and through her chest. The other was an older man with a head laceration and probable crush injuries to his torso.

Their job was extraction, but in this case, Eddie doubted they’d be able to get both out.

He looked back at Bobby and shook his head. Buck edged closer to the jagged metal piece sticking out from the woman, carefully testing where it met the car. He glanced up at both of them. “No luck,” he called. “There’s no way to cut this metal off of the car without yanking it out of her.”

“And she’d definitely bleed out from that,” Bobby said grimly. “What about the man?”

Eddie leaned through the broken window to check his pulse and examine him and the car more closely. “Seems stable,” he reported. “I think we’ve got enough room to be able to maneuver him out without pulling the metal out of the girl.”

Buck shook his head, removing his hand from the girl’s neck, where he had been checking her pulse. “I don’t know that that’s gonna matter.”

“She’s too far gone,” Bobby agreed.

Eddie jerked a nod. This was the worst part of the job, bar none. “Then let’s try and see if we can get at least one save out of this.”

“Alright, I’m going to get a collar on him and see if I can get him on a backboard,” Bobby said, and he and Eddie traded places. “Eddie, Buck, get ready to cut him out.”

What ordinarily would’ve been a straightforward Jaws of Life situation was made more difficult by trying – for all the good that it would do – not to jostle the car to keep the piece of metal in the woman intact, and it took over an hour to finally extricate the man from the mangled remains of his car.

As Chim and Hen rushed the man to the ambulance, Buck peeled away, heading back towards the wreck. “What are you—” Eddie started, breaking off when he saw Buck bend down to check on the woman still impaled in her car. “How is she?” Buck straightened, shaking his head, and Eddie sighed. “Damn.”

“There was nothing we could’ve done for her,” Bobby said bracingly. “You and Buck check in with the scene commander, see if they can use your help before we pack up and head back to the station.”

Eddie jerked a nod before turning to head towards a different section of the scene, but about halfway toward where command had set up triage, Eddie almost ran into someone who darted out in front of him. “Sir, can you tell me anything about what caused the crash?” a small, blonde-haired woman chirped, thrusting a microphone into his face.

Eddie took an automatic step backwards. “What?” he asked, before adding, “Who are you?”

“Sarah Lewis, KJCK News,” the blonde said, flashing him what she clearly thought was a winning smile. “I saw you working on those two cars over there, and was hoping you could share some news.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not really—” Eddie muttered, glancing over his shoulder to see where Buck was at, but the reporter, Sarah, interrupted him.

“There were two victims in those cars, right? But you only pulled one out?”

“Uh—” Eddie looked back at her. “Yeah, we, uh, we couldn’t save both, so we had to choose who had the better chance of survival.”

Sarah nodded. “And what’s that like?” she pressed, the microphone still in Eddie’s face. “Having to make that choice?”

“It’s—”

Eddie broke off, unsure of how to even begin to answer that question, and was thankfully saved from having to do so. “Hey!” Bobby called, jogging over. “What is she doing here?”

Sarah bristled. “I’m press,” she said, “I’m allowed—”

“You’re allowed to report from a scene, but you’re not allowed to interfere,” Bobby said, his voice tight, “and harassing one of my firefighters is what I’d call interference. Get back behind the trucks before I call someone over to make you.”

For a moment, it looked like she might try to argue further, but then Sarah jerked her head away from the scene and she and her cameraman headed away from the wrecks. Eddie glanced at Bobby, ready to thank him, when Bobby demanded, “What were you doing talking to a reporter?”

“I wasn’t—” Eddie started, breaking off when Buck joined them, his helmet tucked under his arm and his brow furrowed as he glanced between them.

“What’s going on?

“I was bombarded by a reporter,” Eddie said, glaring at Bobby, who glowered right back at him.

“And you should’ve known better than to say anything besides, ‘I’m not authorized to speak on behalf of the LAFD’,   
Bobby snapped, switching his glare to Buck. “Take Eddie back to the station.”

“Cap—” Eddie started, but Bobby shook his head.

“You better hope that doesn’t make the 5 o’clock news or there’ll be hell to pay,” he said, and Eddie’s expression tightened.

Without another word, he turned to stalk back toward the rig, yanking his helmet off as he went and trying to ignore Buck, who was at his heels. “Look, don’t worry about it,” Buck said, and Eddie shrugged.

“I’m not.”

Buck caught his arm. “It’s been a rough day,” he said, and Eddie jerked a nod, because it had been, for all of them. “Bobby didn’t mean to take it out on you—”

“I know,” Eddie interrupted, looking up at Buck. “Really, it’s fine.”

Buck cocked his head slightly. “Yeah, but are you?” he asked pointedly.

Eddie managed a small, tired smile. “Yeah, I am,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Worrying about you’s my job,” Buck told him, leaning in and kissing his temple. “Besides, if you make the 5 o’clock news, it’s the closest I’ll ever get to dating a celebrity.”

Eddie let out a soft snort and shook his head. “In that case, I hope it takes top billing.”

* * *

It didn’t. The crash itself was preempted by a hurricane in the Gulf, and didn’t get mentioned until 10 minutes into the broadcast, which Eddie only knew because the entire 118 – save for Eddie, anyway, who made himself busy to avoid having to see it at al – gathered around the TV at the station house to watch, complete with microwave popcorn.

“Eddie, you’re on!” Hen called, and Eddie groaned, hanging his head before making his way over.

“How bad is it?” he asked with a sigh.

Buck grinned, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him down into his lap. “My little celebrity,” he teased, kissing Eddie’s cheek.

“Celebrity’s one word for it,” Chim said dryly. “You barely got any screentime.”

“Yeah, but we recorded it anyway so that you can show Christopher,” Bobby told him. “I’m sure he’ll get a kick out of it regardless.”

Eddie glanced over at him. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

Bobby smiled slightly. “Nothing to forgive,” he said, clapping Eddie on the shoulder before heading to the kitchen to work on dinner.

“See,” Buck said, his voice low in Eddie’s ear. “I told you it’d be fine.”

“What, do you want me to tell you that you were right?” Eddie asked, amused.

“Nah,” Buck said, a little smugly, “because I already know I was.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but didn’t bother protesting any further, just joining in the laughter as Chim threw popcorn at Hen, who tried to catch it in her mouth, the interview already out of mind.

* * *

A few days later, Eddie and Christopher were playing catch with a Nerf football outside. As much as Eddie loved playing with his son, he could never quite shake the fear that he was going to end up hitting him in the face with the ball, which was why they stuck to soft, colorful foam instead of the real football Christopher had asked for.

Christopher threw him a wobbly pass and Eddie dove forward to catch it. “Great job!” he called as he straightened. “But we need to get inside, it’s dinner time.”

“Just one more!” Christopher called, beaming at him.

Eddie laughed. “Fine,” he relented, because he was always an easy sell when it came to spending time with his son. “But go long, ok? And then once you bring it back, we gotta go inside.”

Christopher nodded, still grinning, and turned to put some distance between them. Eddie hung back, waiting patiently for him to be ready, turning the ball in his hands.

“Excuse me,” someone called, and Eddie turned around, his smile fading slightly as he saw an unfamiliar man standing a few feet away from him.

“Can I help you?” Eddie asked.

The man stared unblinkingly at him. “Are you Eddie Diaz?” he asked. “Firefighter with the 118?”

Eddie eyed him warily. “Why?” he asked. 

“I saw you on the news,” the man said. “You worked on that wreck a few days ago, right?”

“I did,” Eddie said cautiously. “What—”

He broke off as the man raised a gun, pointing it squarely at his chest. “My fiancée was in that crash,” he said, his voice shaking, just slightly. “You chose to let her die instead of trying to save her.”

Eddie’s stomach dropped to his knees, and the ball fell from his hands. “Look,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, “I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding—”

“So you didn’t let my fiancée die?”

Eddie swallowed, hard. “Your fiancée died from injuries she sustained in a car accident,” he said. “There was nothing anyone could’ve done to save her.”

The man’s finger twitched on the trigger and Eddie let out a shuddering gasp. “But you didn’t even try,” the man said, his voice cracking. “And for that, you have to pay.”

Any protest Eddie had died in his throat as the man raised the gun to point it at his head instead. “Go inside,” the man ordered, gesturing with the gun.

“Please,” Eddie said, his voice hoarse. “My son—”

“Don’t worry,” the man said. “I’ll bring him in next.”

That was Eddie’s worst fear, and his eyes fluttered shut as the man stepped behind him and he felt the cold metal of the gun press against the back of his neck, forcing him to stumble forward towards the house.

Across the way, Christopher watched with wide eyes as the man forced Eddie inside. Carefully, he took the cellphone Eddie had given him in case of emergencies from his pocket, and dialed the three number sequence he knew by heart.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“It’s my dad,” Christopher said. “I think he’s in trouble.”

* * *

Eddie’s heart was hammering a million miles an hour as he glanced around desperately for something, anything, to use as a weapon, even though he knew he wouldn’t find anything. Keeping his house Christopher-proofed meant everything potentially dangerous or breakable was generally kept out of easy reach. If he had time, he might be able to find a baseball bat or even a cast iron skillet, something heavy—

But time was not on his side, as the man came back in the house, Christopher in tow. “Chris?” Eddie called, taking a step towards them, though he froze when the man pointed the gun back at him. “Are you ok?”

“I’m ok,” Christopher said, his voice small, and Eddie glared at the man.

“If you hurt him, I swear to God—”

The man laughed. “You’re not really in the position to be making threats,” he said, shoving Christopher down on the couch, the gun not wavering in his hand. 

Eddie bit back his automatic retort, especially since Christopher was still peering over the couch at him with wide, fearful eyes. Instead, he slowly raised his hands. “You’re right, I’m not,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm and even. “So why don’t we take a step back, see if we can talk this out.”

“Talking this out won’t bring Jessica back to me,” the man snapped, and Eddie swallowed, eyeing the gun warily.

“Jessica – was that your fiancée’s name?” he asked. The man jerked a nod, and Eddie nodded as well. “Pretty name,” he offered. “And, uh, what’s your name?”

For a moment, he thought the man might refuse to answer, but instead, he ground out, looking almost surprised as he did, “Brad. Bradley Jenkins.”

“And I’m Christopher,” Christopher volunteered, and Eddie closed his eyes for a moment. His son was so fundamentally  _ good _ , and he shouldn’t be here like this.

He had already lost his mom.

He shouldn’t be forced to watch his dad die.

“That’s right, Christopher,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat before looking back at Brad. “That’s my son. He has cerebral palsy. He – he needs me. His mom died, and I’m all he’s got.”

That wasn’t quite true – Eddie knew his parents would take Christopher in a second if anything ever happened to him, and Buck—

Eddie’s heart thumped painfully in his chest at the thought of Buck, of him coming home to find him dead, like the worst calls they had ever been sent out on with the 118, the ones where they arrived too late to help. Buck would blame himself, Eddie knew that, and his heart twisted just thinking about Buck cradling his lifeless body or standing at his gravestone or—

He snapped back to reality, realizing that Brad had asked him a question. “Sorry?” he said, his voice hoarse.

“What happened to the kid’s mom?” Brad repeated.

“She was hit by a car,” Eddie said. “I – I couldn’t save her.”

Brad’s expression twisted. “Then she and my fiancée have something in common.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, “they do. Both of them were too far gone for me or any other firefighter to help.”

“You didn’t even try,” Brad hissed.

“There was nothing I could have done,” Eddie told him, still keeping his voice calm. “Your fiancée was impaled by a piece of metal from the car that hit her. She would’ve bled out even if we had tried to cut her out from the car.”

Brad shook his head. “You don’t know that!”

Eddie met his glare evenly. “Yes, I do.”

Brad was breathing heavily, but some of the anger seemed to have seeped out of him. “She was 28 years old,” he whispered. “She was coming back from wedding dress shopping. She should still be alive.”

“I know,” Eddie told him. “I know, it’s not fair that she isn’t, and—”

What he was about to say was drowned out by the sound of sirens, and Brad whirled around, the blood draining from his face. “Son of a bitch,” he spat, storming over to the window and peering outside before turning back around, pointing the gun at Eddie again. “You called the cops?”

“I didn’t, I swear to God,” Eddie said quickly. “But you did pull a gun on me in the open, anyone could’ve seen.”

“Bull-fucking-shit!” Brad shouted, gesturing with the gun. “Get against the wall, move.” Eddie started to shuffle in the direction he indicated, but Brad marched over and grabbed his elbow, shoving him forward. “I said move,” he growled, the gun pressed against Eddie’s spine, and Eddie swallowed but moved obediently, realizing in an instant that Brad was moving him out of view of the window.

“Look,” Eddie started, panic flaring in his chest again, “no one’s gotten hurt yet, and no one needs to. If you put down the gun and walk out of here, everything will be ok.”

“No one’s gotten hurt?” Brad repeated, shoving Eddie into the wall. “My fiancée is dead!”

Eddie closed his eyes. “I know that,” he said tiredly. “But killing me won’t bring her back.”

Brad took a step back. “Maybe not,” he acknowledged. “But it’ll sure as hell feel good.”

“Dad?” Christopher called, his voice small, and Brad took a step back, a small, sharp and completely deranged smile on his face.

“You think you get to just decide who lives and who dies?” he asked, and Eddie shook his head.

“No, of course not,” he started, but Brad ignored him.

“Then you get to decide,” he said.

Eddie stared at him. “Decide what?”

“Who lives – you, or your son?”

Eddie didn’t even hesitate. “Christopher,” he said instantly. 

But Brad just laughed, the sound making Eddie’s blood run cold. “If I had been given a choice, I would’ve died, too,” he said. “I would have chosen to die so that Jessica could live.” His smile widened. “But I didn’t get to make that choice, and neither do you.”

Without warning, he turned, pointing the gun at Christopher.

* * *

“Have there been any demands made?” the SWAT captain was asking another cop, the red and blue lights of the police vehicles flashing across Eddie’s house, but Buck didn’t wait for the response, tapping him on the shoulder. 

“I’m Evan Buckley,” he told the captain, “firefighter with the 118.”

The captain gave him a look. “We didn’t call for fire and rescue,” he said dismissively, turning back to the cop he was talking to, but Buck grabbed his arm.

“I know you didn’t, but my sister is a 911 dispatcher, and one of ours is in there with his son.”

The captain’s expression flickered, just slightly. “She should never have told you,” he said. “That was a violation of protocol—”

“Please, Captain—”

“—For reasons like this,” the captain finished. “You cannot interfere, not if you want your friend to make it out of there.”

“I’m not trying to interfere,” Buck said hotly. “But lemme go in there.”

The captain barked a laugh. “Go in there?” he repeated. “What part of ‘you can’t interfere’ do you not understand? I’m not sending an unarmed, unqualified civilian into a hostage situation!”

“I’m not a civilian,” Buck snapped, drawing himself up to his full height. “And that’s my partner in there. I’m going in one way or another, and if you try to stop me, you’ll regret it.”

* * *

“Wait!” Eddie gasped, starting forward, not even caring if Brad shot him. “Wait, please—”

“Get back against the wall!” Brad shouted, turning the gun on Eddie once again.

But this time Eddie didn’t shrink back. “I won’t,” he growled. “Not unless you let Christopher go.”

“So you want both of you to die?” Brad asked, raising the gun slightly. “Because that can be arranged. I’ll shoot you first, and you can watch me kill your son before killing you.”

“Dad,” Christopher said, and Eddie’s face crumpled when he realized Christopher was crying. 

“It’s ok, buddy,” he said. “It’s gonna be ok.”

Brad laughed. “And now you’re lying to him,” he said mockingly. “Maybe I should just kill him now, put him out of his misery.”

He turned the gun on Christopher, and Eddie started forward, his eyes blazing. He had barely taken one step when he heard someone call out, “Eddie? Christopher?”

“Buck?” Eddie breathed, barely believing it as Buck stepped inside, his hands in the air.

Brad glanced between them, looking furious. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded. 

“I’m Evan Buckley,” Buck told him, his voice calm. “I’m a firefighter, just like Eddie. I was at the scene where your fiancée died. Her name was Jessica, right?”

“How do you know that?” Brad asked.

“I know a lot of things,” Buck told him, edging a little closer to him. “I know that you’re in a lot of pain, pain I can’t even imagine. But you don’t want to shoot Christopher. He’s just a kid. He doesn’t deserve that.”

“Neither did my fiancée,” Brad snapped, breathing heavily again.

Buck shook his head. “No, she didn’t,” he said. “But that was an accident. And this isn’t.”

Brad’s hand shook, just slightly. “You’re not a part of this,” he told Buck. “Just stay out of it. He – he has to know what it’s like to lose someone like I did.”

Buck nodded slowly. “He does,” he said. “His wife—”

“It’s not the same thing!” Brad snapped.

“Then shoot me.”

Eddie’s heart stopped as Brad glared at Buck. “That’s definitely not the same thing,” he spat.

Buck looked past him, locking eyes with Eddie, who shook his head, eyes pleading with him. But Buck just looked back at the man, his jaw set. “Yeah, it is,” he said. “It’s exactly the same.”

“Buck—” Eddie whispered, but Buck ignored him.

“Eddie and I are dating. He—” For the first time, Buck’s voice shook, just slightly. “He’s the love of my life. And if you shoot me, it will be exactly like your fiancée dying.”

Brad looked back at Eddie, a manic look on his face. “Is that true?” he demanded.

“No,” Eddie said harshly, not quite meeting Buck’s eyes, not caring what the lie would do to Buck as long as it kept him safe. “No, it’s not true.”

But Brad just laughed. “Nice try,” he said, aiming the gun at Buck, who flinched. “So now you really do have a choice to make. Who do you want to live – your lover or your son?” Eddie shook his head, looking down at the ground, and Brad shouted, “Choose!”

Eddie looked back up at him. “I won’t choose,” he spat.

“Choose, or I shoot them both.”

Eddie shook his head. “I won’t do it.”

“Eddie, it’s ok.” Buck’s voice was even and calm still, and Eddie marveled that he was somehow keeping it together right now. “It’s ok.”

Eddie shook his head again, harder this time, unable to stop the tears he could feel welling in his eyes. “No, Buck, I can’t—”

“You have to,” Buck told him. “For Christopher.”

“Make your choice, Firefighter Diaz,” Brad said loudly, but Eddie had eyes only for Buck, who met his gaze evenly, without a hint of doubt or fear.

“I love you,” Buck told him, and Eddie felt his heart shatter into a million pieces even as he drew himself up and glared directly at Brad.

“I won’t choose,” he said.

Brad’s expression didn’t so much as twitch. “Then I will.”

He pulled the trigger and Eddie screamed, “No!” as Buck fell to the ground. Then Brad had the gun aimed at him, but before he could say anything, before he could move, SWAT burst into the room, shouting something that Eddie couldn’t quite understand.

They subdued Brad in record time, but Eddie couldn’t look away from Buck’s prone form on the ground until SWAT blocked it from his view. “Mr. Diaz?” another SWAT officer asked, grabbing his arm. “Mr. Diaz, are you alright?”

But Eddie couldn’t seem to find the words as his knees buckled and he pitched forward, the entire world going black.

* * *

Eddie glanced up at the sun, feeling even hotter than usual in the dark blue of his dress uniform. Beside him, Christopher fidgeted, tugging at the tie he was wearing with a plain button-down shirt. “I don’t like it,” Christopher told him.

“I know,” Eddie said, reaching out to run his hand over Christopher’s head. “I know,” he said. “But we’ll be done soon.” Christopher made a face in protest and Eddie added, “Besides, it’s for Buck.”

Christopher went quiet at that and Eddie’s throat tightened the way it had every time he thought about the events. It had been a week since that day, and Christopher had woken up every night with nightmares.

Not that Eddie could blame him in the slightest.

He flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned quickly to see Bobby, who gave him a small, apologetic smile. “How are you doing?” Bobby asked.

“Ok,” Eddie told him, the word sticking in his throat like the lie it was. “As good as we can be, I guess.”

Bobby squeezed his shoulder. “If you need anything, you know we’re here.”

Eddie nodded. “I know, Cap.”

“It’s going to be hard for awhile—”

“A while?” Eddie said with a derisive snort, shaking his head as he looked away. “It’s gonna be impossible.”

He couldn’t bring himself to look at Bobby, to see the look of understanding and sympathy he knew was there. “It won’t feel like that forever,” Bobby told him. “It’ll fade.”

“You don’t have any idea what I’m going through—” Eddie started, and Bobby shook his head.

“Don’t I?” he asked quietly.

It was Eddie’s turn to shake his head. “It’s not the same.”

“Eddie—” Bobby sighed.

“It’s not the same,” Eddie repeated, with a little bit more force. “Your wife—” He broke off, glancing behind him at the imposing façade of Los Angeles City Hall. “Your wife hasn’t gotten a medal from the mayor of Los Angeles for bravery shown in the line of duty.”

“Well, that is true,” Bobby says with a laugh.

Eddie huffed a sigh. “He’s gonna be insufferable,” he told Bobby. “That ego, swollen even more? I won’t be able to live with him.”

Bobby laughed again, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’ll figure something out.”

“What are you two talking about?” Buck asked as he joined them, his chest puffed out just slightly to show the Medal of Merit he had just been presented with by the mayor.

“You,” Eddie said honestly.

Buck’s grin widened. “And what a hero I was, saving your life and Christopher’s?”

Bobby cleared his throat. “Not to be pedantic, but a Kevlar vest saved all three of your lives. And the SWAT captain was the one who made you put it on before going into the house.”

“Which he never should have done because he never should have put himself in danger,” Eddie said pointedly, but Buck’s grin didn’t falter as he put an arm around Eddie’s shoulder, tugging him close to press a kiss to his temple.

“Yeah but we’re all happy with the outcome, so let’s not focus on that part.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and pushed Buck away. “Just go take some pictures with Christopher so he can take his tie off,” he ordered.

But Buck didn’t immediately follow the order, instead drawing Eddie to him once more, cradling his jaw with both hands before kissing him, a slow, deep kiss that left Eddie a little breathless as he watched Buck head over to where Christopher waited.

Bobby shook his head. “You’re right,” he said. “He will be insufferable.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, a little distractedly, watching as Buck took a selfie of himself and Christopher. It was hard to tell who had the bigger smile. “I’m going to marry him.”

He didn’t know what made him say it, besides the fact that he had never felt more sure of it. Bobby glanced over at him, his eyebrows raised. “Did you – or did he—?”

Eddie shook his head. “No,” he said. “Not yet.” A small smile curved his lips. “But it doesn’t matter. I just know.”

“You just know?” Bobby repeated, but not like he doubted it.

More like he understood exactly what Eddie meant.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, watching the man he loved tickling his son before glancing over at Bobby. “Because that’s the thing about choices - sometimes you just know, in your gut, that it’s the right choice.” Bobby nodded and Eddie looked back at Buck and Christopher. “I knew at that wreck that we made the right choice. And I know now.”

Bobby nodded, watching Buck and Christopher as well. “For what it’s worth,” he said, “I think it’s a good choice.”

“It’s worth a lot,” Eddie told him.

“Even if he is going to be even more insufferable once you two make it official.”

Eddie laughed. “Well, like you said, we’ll figure something out.”

And they would. Because no matter what else happened, Eddie had chosen this.

And he knew without any doubt that he would always be happy that he did.


End file.
